


The (First) Date

by heavenorspace, twobirdsonesong



Series: A Boy and His Wolf [10]
Category: Sterek - Fandom, Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: A Boys and His Wolf, Alive Hale Family, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - No Hale Fire, Cover Art, Developing Relationship, Drabble, First Dates, First Kiss, Fluff, M/M, Pizza, Romance, Time Skips, Wolf Derek, sterek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-13
Updated: 2014-06-13
Packaged: 2018-02-04 11:46:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,881
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1777876
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heavenorspace/pseuds/heavenorspace, https://archiveofourown.org/users/twobirdsonesong/pseuds/twobirdsonesong
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Derek and Stiles finally go out on their first date and it ends just the way Stiles wanted.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The (First) Date

**Author's Note:**

> A Boy and His Wolf is a collaborative project between [heavenorspace](http://archiveofourown.org/users/heavenorspace/pseuds/heavenorspace)and myself.
> 
> It will be a series of vignettes, out of chronological order, set in a world where Derek, in the form of a wolf, first encountered Stiles when he was a toddler playing in the woods. Derek is under strict pack orders not to reveal himself as werewolf to the human boy and must only interact with him as a wolf. When Stiles is a child, their relationship is strictly platonic and protective in nature. As Stiles grows older that begins to change.
> 
> Each drabble will be accompanied by a piece of art drawn by heavenorspace.

(art by heavenorspace)

“So are we ever going to go on that date?” Stiles asks, the words spilling from his mouth before he can stop himself.  He’s sitting on the edge of his bed and he shoves his hands under his thighs to keep himself from messing with his hair even more than he already has.  It doesn’t really matter because he’s sure his nerves are readily apparent to Derek’s keen senses.

  
Derek is in his room, at his bookshelves, touching the spines of the various titles lined up in alphabetical order, by author first name. Last week they were arranged by height and the week before that by the color of the binding. Who knows what they’ll be next week? Stiles is positive Derek can hear the rapid beating of his heart. He swears he can hear it himself; he can certainly feel it pounding in his chest.  He tries not to breathe too loudly in the suddenly, stifling silence of his bedroom.

 

“A date?” Derek asks, turning towards him. His eyebrows are drawn up a bit and his shoulders are set tight, rigid underneath the leather of his jacket. A strong, solid line and Stiles knows Derek is nervous too.

 

It’s been weeks since Stiles found out that Derek likes him.  _Likes him_ – likes him.  In that way that a person who is attracted to another person _likes_ them.  That his gruff and often taciturn Derek actively wants to be more than friends with Stiles.  That Stiles’ new and fluttering affections for the man are returned.

 

And also that Derek is a werewolf.

 

It’s been weeks of Derek coming over to the house, through the front door, and sitting on the couch in his human body as they watch a movie and share a bowl of popcorn and try not to awkwardly bump fingers. Weeks of them not-quite-tiptoeing around each other as Stiles tries to control the pace of his heart every time he catches Derek looking at him with darkened eyes, which is often.

 

Because Derek is a werewolf.  Derek is the wolf that Stiles met when he was boy and has been hanging out with for his whole life.  Stiles’ world tilted in a day and some things don’t just right themselves that easily.

 

But Stiles doesn’t deny that he wants more. He wants what so many want – touch and closeness and affection that burns deeper and hotter than friendship. And he wants it with Derek.

 

“Yeah, a date,” Stiles mutters.  “That thing people who are together do. Together.  Because society has demanded that two people – or more, no judgment here – who are romantically involved should be forced to sit across from each other in a restaurant and choke down overpriced food while making uncomfortable small talk to prove to each other and the rest of the world that they’re not just platonic friends and potentially want to mutually touch genitals.”

 

Stiles stops.  Breathes harshly.  Bites his lip.  His legs are jittering uncontrollably.  Derek is staring at him with those pale eyes of his and just a hint of a smile curling his mouth.  Stiles remembers there’s a wolf underneath.

 

“I know what a date it,” Derek finally says. “I just…” he sighs and shifts, like he’s uncomfortable in his skin.  Stiles can see he wants to fold down into the wolf.

 

Stiles pushes himself up from his bed, unable to sit still any longer.  “This is weird for you, isn’t it?”  He asks though he already knows the answer.

 

It’s weird for Stiles too.  Derek is still his wolf, his friend, but now he’s something more.  He’s the guy Stiles wants to hold hands with.  The guy he wants to know everything about.  He’s the guy Stiles thinks about all damn day (especially when the lights are out and he’s got a hand shoved down the front of his shorts and his teeth set into his lip to muffle his moans and he should really not be thinking about this right now).

 

Derek’s nostrils flare briefly and Stiles blushes. Nothing is hidden from him. “It’s different,” Derek confesses. “There so much that I want and I-”

 

“Don’t know where to start?”

 

Derek shrugs.

 

“Well, you could start by taking me out for a burger,” Stiles suggests, stepping closer to Derek.  He doesn’t know how close he should get. “Or pizza.  I’m not picky.”  He’s really not.

 

Derek breathes in and his hands twitch at his sides. “I could do that.”

 

“And then, maybe, you could kiss me,” Stiles tilts his head and gazes up at Derek through his lashes, hoping he doesn’t look at ridiculous as he feels.  He must not because Derek’s lips part slightly and a hint of his teeth peeks through. “I’d like that too.”

 

Stiles has thought about it endlessly, what it would be like to finally kiss Derek.  To feel those lips that are so often pressed together in consternation part for him.  To have his stubble rough against his own cheek, underneath his fingertips.  Stiles watches Derek’s eyes flicker to his mouth and he doesn’t need Derek’s heightened senses to know exactly what he’s thinking.

 

“I, yes,” Derek almost whispers.  His voice is harsh and Stiles’ stomach swoops. _A date._

 

“Good.  So, do you wanna go tonight?”

 

***

 

Dinner is at a little place in town that makes what Stiles considers to be some of the best pizza in Northern California.

 

“How did you know I love this place?” Stiles asks as the host grabs two menus and leads them through the decently crowded dining room.

 

“Stiles,” Derek says and his hand settles low and warm against Stiles’ back.  “I’ve known you how long now?”

 

Stiles blushes and the color in his cheeks has as much to do with the gentle pressure of Derek’s hand as anything else. Derek is wearing a suit, a honest to god suit, and Stiles looks down at his own scruff shoes and shrugs. Derek knows what he looks like. Though Stiles tells himself he find a nicer shirt for next time.

 

_Next time._

 

The host seats them at a table that’s tucked into a quiet, nearly private corner and there will be no question for anyone who sees them that they’re on a date.  Together. A real romantic adult date. Stiles thrills a little at that and lets Derek pull his chair out for him.

 

“We’re gonna share a pizza, right?” Stiles asks before Derek can even pick up his menu.

 

“I’ll eat whatever you want.”

 

“Brave words,” teases Stiles, but Derek’s eyes just go soft.

 

“I trust you.”

 

Stiles shivers down to his toes and buries his nose in the menu even though he knows exactly what he wants.  He doesn’t know how to do this, but he wants to learn as long as it’s Derek he’s learning with.

 

The waitress comes along and takes their order (one big sausage, green pepper, and onion pizza for the both of them) before leaving them alone in their candle lit corner.

 

Stiles had worried that they’d have nothing to talk about and that this could be incredibly awkward, but he’d forgotten that Derek the man, the human, is almost a mystery to him. Yes, they’ve known each other for long, long years, but Stiles realizes that most of that was spent with Derek as a wolf and Stiles talking his ear off.

 

He listens as Derek tells him about his family – his mom, his sisters.  About their big house in the woods and what growing up as a werewolf was like.  He tells him about his father who was killed in a territory dispute when Derek was still just a pup himself and how incredibly lucky Derek feels that he came across Stiles that day in the woods.  Stiles is thankful for their secluded little table because it means no one is eavesdropping on them. And it means the red in his cheeks is mostly hidden too.

 

Sometime between the second and third slices of pizza Stiles realizes that Derek’s foot is pressed against his own underneath the table.  He tries not to choke on his food.  He looks up from his plate to find Derek staring at him, pink in the cheeks himself and eyebrows pulled flat.  His eyes are clearly asking Stiles if that’s ok, if the touch is allowed.  It’s more than ok.

 

Stiles grins and nudges at Derek’s foot and a wide, beautiful smile breaks out across Derek’s face.  Stiles’ heart flutters in his chest and he knows Derek can hear it over the clinking of glasses and the low chatter of the other patrons.

 

If this is what a date can be like then Stiles wants another one already.

 

***

 

Derek is walking him up the pathway to his front door when it hits him.  At some point during the night Stiles apparently forgot about _this_ part of the date.  _This_ moment.

  
They reach the porch of the Sheriff’s house and Derek turns towards him until they’re standing facing each other and Stiles’ stomach is twisted up tight.

 

He did ask for a kiss after all.  He’s pretty sure this is when it’s supposed to happen.

 

“Uhm,” Stiles swallows and his mouth is dry. That can’t be good if Derek is going to put his mouth anywhere near Stiles’.

 

“Was that…did you enjoy yourself?” Derek questions, voice quiet.  His hands are jammed into the pockets of hi jacket and he’s staring at his boots.

 

“You know I did,” Stiles responds, rolling his eyes just a little.  He steps towards Derek until he’s close enough to reach out and close his fingers around Derek’s wrists, pulling his hands out from his pockets.  Derek’s palms are warm as Stiles tangles their fingers together and his eyes are dark and serious.  Stiles is pretty sure this is the moment he’s been thinking about for weeks.  And for the entire night.  And the last couple of minutes.

 

“Stiles,” Derek whispers, almost a question, and Stiles nods shakily.

 

“Yeah.”

 

Derek leans in close, so close, and Stiles breath catches in his chest.  His lips part in anticipation.  He goes still as Derek’s nose brushes against the side of his neck and up the line of his jaw. The touch is light, teasing, but it makes him shudder hard.  He swears he hears Derek inhaling.

 

“Are you…smelling me?”

 

“Shut up.” The words are almost a growl and Stiles shivers at that too.

  
Derek cups his face and tilts his chin just so before Stiles’ loses his breath to the touch of Derek’s mouth against his.  It’s just a light press, tender and a little unsure, but Stiles feels it all throughout his body.  He sucks in a sharp breath, arms winding around Derek’s strong shoulders, and he thinks he can taste Derek.  He’s sure Derek can hear the rabbit-quick beating of his nervous, fluttering, happy heart.

 

Stiles has never seen Derek kill anything, but he knows he can, knows he’s capable of immense power.  But in that moment Derek’s big hands are gentle on his face and his lips are soft and Stiles sighs into it, pressing closer.  Stiles never wants it to end.

 

They kiss until the porch light flickers on and off and the Sheriff coughs pointedly from the other side of the door.


End file.
